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Text Luna and Scrivener returned to their cottage that night, surprising Pollen. The Velite fretted awkwardly for a little while, but the two ponies had only wanted to head to bed and get some sleep after the ordeals of the day, promising to explain everything afterward. Pollen had offered to go back outside to the wagon, but Luna had looked almost insulted at this and all-but-ordered the Velite to stay where she'd set up in the den. The two living ponies had finally headed into their room: it still needed another coat of paint, and Luna wanted to detail the stars and moon and other celestial symbols over the ceiling as well. But other than those details, it was mostly a matter of arranging their furniture properly and getting rid of the extra boxes piled everywhere to get it into a finished state. But the large, circular bed was more than comfortable, and it didn't take long for the two to fall asleep once they were curled up together under the blankets. As always these days, however, Scrivener soon found himself slowly climbing to his hooves in darkness, alone, not even needing to look at himself to know his form had warped and distorted as his claw dug slowly against the warm, bog-like earth. Reality filtered in bit-by-bit around him, and the half-pony, half-wyrm shook his head slowly before he sighed quietly, lowering his head and murmuring: "Why does it always come back to this? Why the nightmare, every time I try to sleep... but I know. I know... what I... what I am. I know it's due to the infection of corruption, and the way I've been warped and changed over the years. And I know you have something to do with it, too, don't you?" "Yes, I do." Nightmare Moon's voice said softly, sounding unsurprised as she strode slowly out of the darkness, and Scrivener gazed up at her silently as she walked towards him. She was smiling softly, however, even as blue and black armor gleamed over her body, the thick plates and tight dragonhide leather tight against her supple frame. And no longer did she wear the ivy necklace: instead, she wore an intricate collar that looked as if it was made of obsidian roses turned to metal, laced and held together with steel ivy, with the black pearl inset tightly into the front. She wore no helm, letting her starry mane sway and flow freely back, the ethereal locks seeming to hum softly as she stepped forwards and gazed down into his eyes with her own dark, intelligent, and yet somehow animal irises, studying him calmly before she said softly: "You are not angry. You want to be; you know that you should be; you know that Luna will be... but all the same, you are not angry. You understand, do you not?" "A little. Enough that... I don't..." Scrivener Blooms closed his eyes, looking down silently, and Nightmare Moon reached up and gently touched his chest. The half-wyrm, half-pony didn't even have to look down as he felt reality twist around him and a comforting weight settle around his neck, before he reached his claw quietly up and drew his claws gently over the engraved collar now resting there. He halted... then opened his eyes, looking up at her with his mismatched features as he said quietly: "This wasn't the right way to go about it, though." "Yes, but do not forget what I am or who I am. I am Nightmare Moon: I am Luna's passion, strength, and her darker side. I am both the shadow beneath her, and the whisper inside her... I am evolution, and the primal: I am the reflection, the sinister conscience, and epitome of what lays within her very soul. Our very soul." Nightmare Moon said softly, and Scrivener knew she wasn't just talking about herself and Luna, but him as well. "I do not care about good or evil, right or wrong. What I care about is you, and Luna, and our blessed, beautiful night. I care about those within our domicile, and those whom we call friend and family and ally. "I desire to be understood better by you, Scrivener Blooms. Perhaps I even aim to try and make myself more-loved than little Luna, but I can say with honesty that was never my first goal." Nightmare Moon tilted her head back moodily, looking towards the dark ceiling above, and then she flicked her horn absently as it gave a soft pulse, and the night sky filtered in bit-by-bit above them. Scrivener gazed up at this as stars twinkled to life through the darkness, as the moon shimmered into being and clouds formed, rolling slowly through the air amidst the glowing constellations. "It is funny, to be in competition with yourself. Even lucid as I am... some days I feel almost as separate and hostile an entity as what gave me life, as what once drove Luna into her dark dreams..." She quieted, then looked slowly back at the male as he looked back at her, leaning forwards and explaining softly: "It was Pinkamena that gave me this idea, you see. At first, the half-demon's elation at your state of being struck as strange. Perhaps even disloyal... I almost wished to punish her for it. But then I came to understand why she felt such gladness... why she said that only now, and only you, could truly understand her, even if Luna and I could come close. It was because of the homogeneity between you two: the sameness, if I may borrow your artistic use of simpler words for such complex things, handsome scribe." Their eyes met, and Nightmare Moon smiled softly, leaning forwards and murmuring quietly: "And it worked, did it not? Furthermore, I have never influenced you directly... I have only helped shaped the world you stepped into each and every night. Perhaps I have not even stepped outside my bounds: after all, are dreams not meant to be shaped and designed by the deeper, darker self?" "You rationalize things worse than me and justify yourself more than Celestia does." Scrivener said quietly, but Nightmare Moon only gave him an entertained look, rearing her head back slightly. "But I understand. Like I was seeing the same things Pinkamena was... you wanted me to see the same way you did. You wanted me to experience things from you perspective... you used this world to shape me into something more like you." "Yes, and no. What I have truly done here is merely... added a slant." Nightmare Moon said softly, gazing into his eyes from her only-slight height advantage over the half-pony, half-wyrm. "I merely ensured that when you slept, you stepped into this world... your enjoyments were your own, however, just as together, you and Luna designed the dark city and the black castle of desires within. Not even the Moon Blessed were my creation... they came into being as a result of a mixing of the desires of yourself and little Luna." "And where is Luna?" Scrivener asked curiously, but Nightmare Moon only smiled at him softly, shaking her head slowly before she gestured gently with a hoof to the side, and Scrivener followed the motion to gaze past her, towards the outline of some dark, majestic shape near the horizon; a castle, a temple, a catacombs of shadows and desire. "She's distracted there, looking for me, isn't she?" Nightmare Moon nodded, replying quietly: "You know how things work with Luna, beloved. She is always... hesitant... to take my advice. It is better to give her something else to distract her with when I want a moment to speak to you alone, even if later on I am sure I will suffer the consequences... but at the same time, I do not mind. I am satisfied with what I have accomplished and will pay whatever price is necessary for my actions if I must." Scrivener lowered his head, and then he shook it slowly and murmured softly: "But your plan was flawed from the start, Nightmare Moon. Maybe you've made us more similar, but you... you lack empathy, and understanding. I've never lost that, no matter what I... what I've come to enjoy, or this desire for power and strength. And our motives are still different, tinging the world different colors... you seek pleasure and benefit for yourself first of all. Yes, I might seek both of those things, but Luna is always first. Luna has always come first... always will come first." "Do not judge me so harshly, Scrivener Blooms, for do I not put you above myself?" Nightmare Moon sounded almost hurt, dropping her head to him humbly even as her eyes flashed with what seemed more like cunning than compassion. "Surely if I do lack sympathy, among other things, the fact that I treat you with such affection must prove my love and loyalty to you far more effectively than it would a gentler pony's." "You love me because I'm want you want, Nightmare Moon. At least, that's what I feel sometimes." Scrivener replied softly, glancing down at his claw hand as he rose and flexed it... and then he glanced up in surprise as the armored, black-coated equine slid forwards and tenderly nuzzled him, smiling as she half-lidded her eyes, her mane swaying slowly backwards with a pulse of starlight that reverberated through both ephemeral locks and the constellations high above. "No, I love you because you are what I need." Nightmare Moon responded gently, and the half-wyrm, half-pony shifted awkwardly at this, a hard-to-describe feeling twisting its way through his soul as she smiled at him lovingly. "Good. You like that. And you know it is true... that is why I seek to empower you. Why I have pushed you so hard to understand me and that even my deepest darkness can represent great happiness. Why I have purified you in these nightmares, helping you work your true desires and innermost self to the surface, even though so many ponies fearfully keep themselves beneath so many different masks for the endless, pointless masquerade they all partake in, knowing that to show themselves is to risk rejection and exile. But maybe our new world will be different." Scrivener smiled a bit at this, glancing down and saying quietly: "Ponies wear those so-called masks for a reason, Nightmare Moon... obey those social norms and try to fit the status quo out of more than just cowardice-" "But even that is an admission that at least part of it is indeed cowardice." Nightmare Moon interrupted pointedly, looking almost excited as she began to pace in a slow, predatory circle around Scrivener as the male followed her with his eyes, wincing a bit despite himself. "I do not believe anypony should have to feel they must hide who they are, or anything else about themselves. Order through conformity makes a mockery of freedom: it's just another system of constraint and subtle enslavement. It is a cruel manipulation, as well... thinking you are free to do as you choose so long as you do what is considered normal, and that any strangeness must be met with hostility and crushed out." The earth pony made a bit of a face, then he cocked his head and asked mildly: "So bad ponies like us should be allowed to be bad even in public? What about Pinkamena, you really want her running her mouth off all the time?" "Now darling, you know I enjoy Pinkamena greatly! She seeks to fit in, but does so without mutilating herself to fit the standards of others. In fact, she could be used to represent the ultimate end I would like to see all ponies reach... not madness, of course, but able to differentiate which rules are pointless and which rules must be followed." Nightmare Moon responded easily, continuing to pace in a slow circle around him as she studied him intently. "I do not believe in or promote complete anarchy... for freedom to have meaning, it must be structured, it must be monitored, and it must be policed. What I am saying is that there are much better reasons to persecute and punish ponies than for what they like, do not like, and what they enjoy in the privacy and sanctity of their homes." "So what you're saying is that every pony should be free to do anything they want, as long as it doesn't interfere with what you think is best for them." the earth pony said flatly, and Nightmare Moon halted in front of him but smiled in an almost sultry way as she leaned forwards until their noses almost touched. "The only difference between myself and anyone else is that I admit it freely." she answered coyly, then laughed as she drew back and gazed off towards the distance, looking almost longing as she said softly: "But I have taken up enough time, and had my fun for now, Scrivener Blooms. You understand my aim, and I understand a little more about you, and relish the fact that in our glorious night we remain together. Yes... you compliment me wonderfully. You seek to understand before you seek to destroy; you extend empathy, and relish pain... both as the giver and the receiver. And given the power you long for, you would strive to protect little Luna, not because she needs it, but to try and return to her everything she does for you, to find value and self-worth in being worthy to her..." She paused meditatively, saying softly: "In this, I must confess, I find a flaw, a vulnerability, a weakness in you, my beloved, and I say this not for my benefit, but for yours. I speak out of love, not hatred or envy; you fail to understand how you may not protect from monsters outside of us, but you are the solid pillar that defends us against internal mayhem, and unites myself and my sweet and treacherous little Luna. Physical might is like a pretty thing, ornamental and good for the occasional show, but it is not as great and glorious as so many assume. Ponies never feared me because I was a titan, with dark magic that not even my sister could imitate: they feared me because I was ruthless, and merciless, and did anything that was required to achieve my ends. Likewise, Luna is not a good leader simply because of her horn and hooves, howsoever she exaggerates these qualities... it is because she analyzes the battle and pours both passion and experience into the fray." The half-pony, half-wyrm studied her silently as she looked over him slowly, then said quietly: "But of course it is alluring for us, and perhaps we influence your lust for strength in its most vulgar form as well... both myself and Luna. We wish for you to be happy... we would do anything to see you smile, and you already have learned to mix the mental and the physical together well on even the roughest battlefield. And pretty things, of course, are always nice to have in surplus. But go now, husband. Luna awaits." And with that, Nightmare Moon gestured gently again towards the distance as she gave one last, cryptic smile, bursting apart into blue mist that wafted backwards through the dark night air, and Scrivener watched the azure fog fade quickly out of sight before he shook his head slowly and muttered: "I can't tell if I'm more or less confused now than before... but I guess part of me is glad that it's not just me that's responsible for all this... everything." He paused, glancing down, and then he closed his eyes and added quietly: "Not that I can pretend it's all her fault either, though... not with what she implied and said. I wish that I could... I wish that none of this was me, but I made so many choices here, I walked this path myself so willingly, I... I know it's like a drug but..." Scrivener glanced up quietly, then he shook his head slowly as he began to stride towards the distance, a shiver tearing through him as he lowered his head and stared at the dark ground beneath his feet: mire-like, and yet so different from the rotten putridity that Fenrir had brought with it: this dark soil was fertile and suppliant, just waiting to be seeded for new and exotic life to blossom, only needing a little push in the right direction to perhaps become some wonderland forest of living trees and prehistoric ferns... or perhaps tapers and ivy and nettles and giant mushrooms and toadstools the size of houses. He smiled wryly at this thought despite himself, shaking his head slowly as he gazed upwards, unsurprised to see that the shape in the distance was much closer than it should have been, distinct and almost glowing against the night sky. It was their ebony castle, towers and battlements standing almost in salute and the doors at the top of the twisting flight of steps gaping invitingly, as if it awaited his return as eagerly as a loyal pet. The obsidian stairs were warm beneath his hooves and claw as he began to climb them, gazing over the fortress, feeling both enticed and hollow, desirous and fearful. It was a dark lure, and an aphotic treasure-trove: it was his nicotine, his needle, his siren and her song. But inside the Stygian disease awaited his compassionate cure... the one thing that gave meaning to his life, and soothed his savaged soul. He passed through the gates above, and strode through the darkened courtyard, barely aware of what was around him; it was all just a blur, mixed with the strangest feeling of coming home. Doors opened before him, and he walked through them, until he found himself in the innermost sanctum, the heart of the dark citadel... and at the back of this, Luna awaited him with a smile and a gleam in her eyes. She lay on the plush bedding, the engraved black pearl swaying slowly around her neck, mane glowing in faint pulses. Around her, the four Moon Blessed rested in their jewelry and golden adornments with heads respectfully bowed, eyes closed and wings furled against their ivory bodies, and Scrivener couldn't help but smile faintly himself as he approached, asking quietly: "You know, huh?" "I am not an idiot, Scrivener Blooms, and Nightmare Moon underestimates my own guile. Mazes are less difficult when one knocks down walls." Luna replied quietly, and she stood up as the male approached before the two nuzzled one-another quietly as Scrivener stepped onto the bedding, then shared a tight embrace. Luna buried her face against the side of his neck, breathing softly, and then she murmured quietly: "I am sorry, Scrivener Blooms. That part of me... that Nightmare Moon part of me... I know what it has done. The darkness inside me grows and grows, given endless sustenance from the carnage of our waking and sleeping hours... and it fuels my desires, my selfishness, my wanting. I was upset at Nightmare Moon for what she did... but I was more upset with myself, Scrivy, because part of me was glad for it. Because I think sometimes that between that manifestation of passion and ego and mine own conscious self, I am the one who comes out the worse." Scrivener Blooms squeezed her quietly, tilting his head back and gazing up towards the ceiling as he laughed a bit, murmuring: "Internal struggles and warring with ourselves... the negative side-effect of this soul link. But maybe it's a hidden blessing, Luna... our darkness is mixed together but it only makes that light you shine with so much purer, my Valkyrie princess..." Luna laughed at this, blushing a bit as she buried her face deeper against his neck, her muzzle brushing against his collar as she stayed tight and close against him... then she smiled a bit as she brought a hoof up to rest against his shoulder, asking quietly: "Then tell me, Scrivener Blooms. Do you fear the nightmares, or wish for dreams of sunlit day or tranquil dusk?" "I am afraid of them. Of what we do here..." Scrivener glanced up quietly, gazing slowly over the four Moon Blessed as they rose their heads with calm smiles towards him. "Of what it looks like when you dig inside two ponies and force all their secreted and locked-down desires to the surface. I guess life in Hell, living without rules, has just amplified these things too... but yeah. I might be afraid, but I don't... I don't want them to end, either. Not anymore." Luna looked up at him, studying him quietly, and then she kissed the side of his neck before gently pulling him backwards, guiding him to lay down before she slid overtop, lightly pinning him by the shoulders as she said softly: "They never have to, my beloved..." And Scrivener smiled faintly despite himself, reaching up his gnarled claw to gently stroke over her face and bury into her locks as she leaned down and kissed him softly, both ponies loving and regretting, hating and delighting in the decision they silently made as they embraced the shadows in themselves and one-another. Top ↑ Category:Transcript Category:Story